


Give This Song Another Listen

by summerstorm



Category: Bones
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Genderswap, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you even <em>want</em> me to paint you?" [always-a-girl!Hodgins/Angela]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give This Song Another Listen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at comment_fic: "girl!Jack/Angela, nude modeling".

Jack didn't really come across as the kind of girl who would take her clothes off so a co-worker (close friend) could paint her naked form on a canvas meant to see the light of day — or at least the light of the office belonging to the team in charge of reviewing submissions for the art program Angela wanted to get into.

As a matter of fact, when Jack had waltzed into Angela's office at the Jeffersonian two days earlier and said, "I'll do it," Angela thought she was talking about gathering the paint samples Angela needed from the victim's helmet.

"No, I mean," Jack said, her mouth caught halfway between a smirk and aborted laughter, "I can do that too, but I meant I'll model for you. With as few clothes as you want there to be." Angela could tell Jack was trying to make it easier on herself by pretending it was the sort of thing she did on a regular basis, and Angela smiled, pretending she believed her. "I have Thursday off, so any time during the day works for me."

Even when she was sitting on a stool next to Angela's kitchen island with just an aquamarine silk foulard — to bring out her eyes — slung around her neck and down her arm, Jack still looked like a private show. Every time Angela came close to a brush, Jack started fidgeting with the messy, ashy blond curls that were swimming over her cheeks after Angela had asked her to let her hair down.

Now Angela wasn't sure if that had been a good idea — she thought it would make Jack feel less exposed, having her hair to hide behind, but it looked kind of unnatural.

"If you need me to change something, you just have to ask," Jack said, and Angela pressed her teeth together, hating herself for having asked Jack, who was clearly into her, to do this, and suggested Jack tie her hair up again.

Jack did, and her breasts stretched when she raised her arms, nipples visibly tightening at the inevitable movement of the silk swinging and redistributing the air over them.

"Sorry," she said, making Angela realize she'd been staring, damn, "it's kind of cold," and there was something behind the shyness that Angela perfectly identified as _teasing_.

Angela was torn between playing the game, which Jack was clearly hoping she would, and being overly professional, which was the only sure way they'd both get through this unscathed.

After getting down a quick sketch of Jack's face — the high cheekbones, the gorgeous nose — and shoulders, Angela let out a puff of breath, and shook her head when Jack laughed at her.

"Do you even _want_ me to paint you?" Angela asked.

"Why else would I be sitting naked in your kitchen while you're standing right in front of me?" Jack asked matter-of-factly.

Angela chuckled. "I don't know," she said, faking a frown, "but it feels personal."

"You turned me down when I asked you out," Jack said.

"So plan B was exhibitionism?"

Jack looked like she was considering lying to Angela's face, but then she shrugged and said, "Yeah. Is it working?"

"You have no idea."

"Good," Jack said, rising to her feet and letting the foulard slide down her back and onto the floor, "what do you say you do some research before you turn my body into a plastic art motive? I'm sure someone out there claims you should only paint what you know."

"That's writing," Angela said, arching into Jack's hands as they picked at the buttons of Angela's cardigan, tracing the shape of her breasts over her top. "But you may have a point," she conceded, and then placed her hands on Jack's hips and leaned down to kiss her.


End file.
